


All Roads Lead to the Same Destination

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bromance, Drug Use, Gen, Human Castiel, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 05:19:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set a couple of months after 8x23.</p><p>Cas has been reunited with Dean and Sam after the fall of the angels.  They live together in the bunker, going on the occasional hunt, Sam continuing to gain his strength back after the failed trials.  Cas has mostly managed to tackle the basics of being human and caring for his body.  Now he is dealing with the emotional trauma of becoming human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Roads Lead to the Same Destination

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first SPN work. I keep going back to the statement Cas made that in 4x03: "Destiny can't be changed, Dean. All roads lead to the same destination." How sad where it to be true of Future Cas?

The first time Cas stayed out all night, Dean didn’t really think twice about it. 

He ended up back at the bunker an hour or two before sunrise looking no worse for wear.  Dean brushed it off as him needing to break out and assert his independence in his newly human state.  He figured the man had gone out and found a woman to keep him company, maybe drank a little too much, had a night’s worth of good sex, and stumbled home.  Dean couldn’t blame him for wanting to – how many times had Dean done the same thing to deal with the stresses of their life?

The second time, though, Dean took notice. 

Again he arrived home about an hour before sunrise, eyes bloodshot, with a slight stumble through the door.  Again he looked really no worse for wear, though it was obvious this time he’d drank too much.  For Dean, the memories of Future Cas flooded his brain and it didn’t settle well in his stomach, but he said nothing.  _It will take some time for him to even out.  Going from an angel to a human is a hard transition_ , he thought.  _Give him time._

oOo

The third time made something in Dean break.

Cas lurched through the door, early morning this time, leaning heavily against the frame.  “Hellllllo, Dean.”  A stupid, sad grin graced his face.

The minute his eyes met Cas’, he could see they were bloodshot, the pupils blown wide.  He lost it.  This was too much, too much like Future Cas who didn’t give a damn about himself.  The Cas who was no longer his best friend, the Cas who drowned his sorrows in drugs, women, and booze.  The Cas who didn’t care whether he lived or died so long as he was indulging in decadence until he did.

Dean stormed back to his room, slamming the door shut for good measure.

oOo

The fourth time Dean didn’t wait for Cas to come back home.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“Out where?”

“I don’t really see that it’s any of your business, Dean.”

Both stormed off, in different directions, the echoes of slamming doors ringing through the bunker.

oOo

The fifth time Dean was waiting for Cas at the door when he returned.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Out.”

“You’re drunk.  And high.”

“Your point?”

“You can’t keep doing this, Cas.  I won’t let you do this.”  _To yourself.  To me._

“I’d like to see you stop me.”

oOo

The sixth time found Cas passed out in a jail cell, waiting for Dean to bail him.

“He was charged with what?”

“Possession.”

_Dammit ,Cas._

oOo

Maybe the 10th or 12th time Cas pulled one of his all-nighters, Dean searched his room.

Maybe he wished he hadn’t.

When Cas returned home in the early hours of morning, it was to an all-too quiet Dean, sitting at the table, with a pile of wrapping papers, a small bong, an empty plastic baggie, several bottles of prescription pills, and a needle dumped in a pile in front of him.

He looked up at Cas as he staggered by.  The sheer look of devastation on his face made Cas pause.

“Anything you want to tell me, Cas?”  It was almost a whisper because maybe if he couldn’t hear the words come out, then it wouldn’t be real.  The Future Cas wouldn’t exist.  The Future Cas wouldn’t be this Cas.

“No, I don’t think there is.”

Dean stood up slowly, keeping his head bowed.  Cas wanted to continue to his room, but there was something about the sadness in Dean at this moment that rooted him to his spot.

He heard Dean take a gulp of air before raking his arm and hand over the table top, throwing the entire contents across the room onto the floor.

“Dammit, Cas!  Not this!  Anything but this!  Let me help you, man!”

Cas turned on his heel and headed to his room.

oOo

The all-nighters stopped for a while, maybe a couple of weeks.  Dean wondered if he’d gotten through to Cas.  He was pretty sure he’d found all of Cas’ stash, so he thought at least he wasn’t getting strung out on drugs, even if the alcohol was still disappearing at a rapid rate.

Apparently he thought wrong.

“DEAN!”

Dean found Sam crouched beside Cas, who lay in a crumpled heap on the floor of his room, unconscious, a prescription bottle with a couple of pills left and an empty bottle of tequila beside him.

oOo

He woke up in a hospital bed, the memory of the night before still fresh.  _Damn.  It didn’t work._

“Cas, you can’t keep doing this.  I won’t let you kill yourself.  I won’t.”

“There’s nothing you can do to stop me, Dean.”

“I’m not stopping you, Cas.  I’m asking you.  Please.  For me.  If you can’t do it for you, do it for me.  I need you.”

Cas turned his head and closed his eyes, hearing Dean’s footsteps as he finally left the room.

oOo

It was Sam who cornered him one morning.

“Cas, I can’t pretend to know what you are going through, man, I can’t.  But what I do know is what it’s doing to my brother.  It’s killing him inside.  He’s falling apart watching you do this.  For his sake, please let us help.”

That night he stayed out all night and most of the next day.

oOo

It was Dean’s turn to get plastered.  The tension in the bunker between him and Cas was at epic levels.  Sam and Kevin were keeping their distance.  He’d see Cas maybe once a day, in the kitchen usually, or the main sitting room but they didn’t talk.  Just angry glares and loud sighs exchanged between them.  So all he wanted was to get drunk as hell.  He didn’t even want to get laid, he just wanted to get so hammered that for a few hours he could forget about the last few months of torture he’d been through, almost losing his brother, not closing the gates of Hell, and fucking up Heaven.  And Cas.  Ahh, the familiar weight of guilt perching on his shoulder.  Yeah, a few good shots should do the trick.

It was long after Sammy and Kevin retired for the night that Dean sat up, drinking through his bottle of Johnny Walker.  His head was starting to swim and he could feel himself getting giddy when he heard shuffling behind him accompanied by a heavy yawn.  He’d know its owner anywhere.  He felt his body stiffen and thought, _dammit, not on the one night I need to get loose._

“Dean.”

“Talking to me now?  Figures.  Figures you’d wait till I get plastered, you bastard.”

“Dean.”

“No, wait.  You let me talk, you bastard.”  Dean rose from his chair and turned to face Cas, taking a step forward, getting right in his face.

“You listen to what I have to say.  You getting drunk?  You getting high?  Those things are not cool.  You got a problem, Cas, you come to me.  We talk about it, man.  We work it out.  We face that shit, together.  That’s what families do.”

“Oh because you’ve been such a good role model on how I should handle my problems?”

“Don’t you throw this back on me.  I don’t get high on pills and shoot shit into my veins.  Getting drunk every once in a while is a whole world of fucking different than what you’re doing, Cas.  You are killing yourself!”

“Exactly, Dean.”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like?  Being here?  Being with you?  Knowing all the shit you and Sam have been through and still feeling sorry for myself that I’m human now and not an angel?  Do you know what a dick I feel like for even having pity for myself over that?”

“What?”

“Yeah, Dean.  I feel guilty over feeling sorry for myself.  I’m of no use to you.  I’m of no use to me.  I’m not a part of your family, no matter what you like to think.”

Dean took another step forward, grabbing Cas’ shirt, and shoving him into the wall.  He inched his face even closer so they were almost touching nose-to-nose.

“You listen to me, you heartless fuckall.  YOU are part of this family, like it or not, blood or not.  I will not see you destroy yourself.  If you think that all I ever needed from you was your angel mojo, then you are more junkless than I thought.”

In an instance, Cas pushed Dean off and swung.  He connected with Dean’s chin, sending him back square on his ass.  Dean only laughed and continued.

“That’s right, you son of a bitch!  You are in this family for the long haul.  We’re not going to let you do this.  We’re not going to let you go through this alone.  I’m going to be here for you, Cas.”

Cas jumped and Dean found himself pinned down by a deceptively strong former angel, taking the beating of a lifetime.  Fist after fist, pummeled his face and chest, until he finally grabbed Cas’ arms and pulled him to him.  They lay there, Dean on his back on the floor, Cas clutched tightly to his chest, still trying to fight, as Dean felt more than heard the sobs wrack through his friend’s body.

“That’s right, man.  Let it out.  Let it go.  It will be okay, Cas.  I got you.”

His drunkenness was subsiding as he continued to hold Cas.

“You lost a lot, Cas.  It can’t be easy to become human, to lose everything you’ve ever known.  Don’t you ever compare yourself to me or anyone else.  What I’ve been through isn’t your measuring stick.”

More sobs.  The pain broke Dean’s heart but he clung to Cas and wouldn’t let up.

“It’s all right, Cas.  Let it go, man.”

Cas began to calm and moved to sit up, Dean finally letting go, Cas wiping his face on his sleeves.  Dean followed suit, and they found themselves leaned up against the wall, side by side.

“Do you know why this thing with you scares me, Cas?”

A shake of the head.

“I never told you what Zachariah did to me, did I?”

Another shake of the head.

“He sent me to the future.  2014 to be exact.  I saw what I’d become.  I saw what you’d become.  What I think I drove you to become.”

Cas turned to look Dean in the eyes, a bewildered look on his face.

“This, Cas.  I drove to you this, drinking, getting high, having orgies.  You’d lost your grace, became human, and I made you feel useless, like I didn’t need you for anything since you didn’t have your mojo.  I turned into a dick.”  He paused.  “Well, a bigger dick.”

That got a chuckle from Cas.  And the chuckle earned Cas an elbow in the ribs.

“Smart ass.”

“That’s why you asked me not to change.”

Dean nodded.

“Look, you’re a part of this family.  I’ve told you before, we need you, Cas.  Mojo or not, we need you.”

Cas turned to look at Dean and the bloody mess of his face he’d made.   “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean gave him a half-smile. “Anytime, buddy.”


End file.
